


Things Michael Does Well

by aiIenzo



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:04:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aiIenzo/pseuds/aiIenzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He may have forced his concentration on his first drink  a bit too heavily, as he missed the exact moment Gavin’s hands found their way from the sofa to his hips, but the warmth that spread through his body at the contact wasn’t so easy to put out of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when I was very, VERY new to RT/AH, so some things in this story are ridiculously out of character. My apologies if it frustrates you, and know that I'm very, uncomfortably aware of my characterization mistakes, lol. Thank you!

Michael had always done well at parties. Parties with people he loved, parties with people he didn’t know, and parties with people he’d rather not be around, it didn’t matter, he was always able to blend right into the occasion despite a rather idiosyncratic demeanor. So it seemed a bit irrelevant to say that a gathering of his closest friends for no stated reason other than “we’re going to order ass-heaps of pizza” was definitely at the top of Michael’s plans for Friday night. 

Geoff had been left the house as his wife and daughter made the trip back to see family, and was no stranger in letting it slip out in the office. Initially, it had just been him and Gavin boasted loudly with each other about how smashed they were going to get, until Ryan pointed out that they were all grown ass men, and could drink whenever they’d like. A stirring silence lapsed, followed by Gavin’s soft “But this is an INCREDIBLE amount of drunky,” and Michael only had to issue the single comment of “I’m in,” before a resounding consensus was made. 

Everyone else was as well. 

And now here he is, staring vacantly at the coffee table for a moment, vaguely trying to decipher his bundle of empty beer bottles from Gavin’s, who had been, until recently, occupying the seat next to him. Giving it up as a lost cause, he takes another drink and props his legs up on the table, focusing his attention back to the television where Ray is deeply immersed in Saint’s Row IV on the opposite couch. He can hear laughter from the kitchen, and the unmistakable sound of Gavin’s giggle as he replies to a joke Joel had just made, likely at Gavin’s own expense. 

Micheal smiles. 

His right side is getting cold though, and the depression Gavin had lefton the cushion is starting to fill back in. He stares at it for a moment, wondering hazily when he’d be back.

"Fuck," Ray mutters lightly, leaning closer to the TV. Several more bottles littered the space in front of Ray than in front of Michael, and the redhead smirks, delighting in the thought of drunk Ray, which had always proved to be a blast regardless of the situation. By the bottle count and the looks of Ray’s fumbling fingers, he was already there.

"Don’t fuck up," Michael teased, barely audible. "Don’t do it, Ray. Don’t fuck this up for yourself."

Ray made a face and leaned, if possible, even closer. “Shut the fuck up Michael and drink your beer. Pussy.”

"Come on Ray. You’re so close, sooo clooose," he draws the last part out, pitching his voice a bit higher.

"Are you fucking with me or jacking me off - oh god damnit!" Ray curses and throws the controller next to him on the couch, running a hand through his hair and shooting a glare at Micheal. "You’re a piece of shit, Michael."

Michael laughs and downs the rest of his beer as Ray had commanded, shivering a bit at the bitter taste of the slightly warm dregs at the bottom. Ray curses one last time and furiously pounds the button on his controller for a retry, positioning himself again before looking up at Michael. 

"Hey, grab me another one too while you’re up."

Michael cocks his head curiously, an asshole smile sliding across his face. “Excuse me?”

"Another beer. I just saw you finish yours."

"Oh, dear Ray," Michael laughs, "Getting up is for people who don’t have a Englishman."

Ray glances at him, eyebrows raising over his glasses. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Michael puts his empty bottle down, “Watch this. Oi, Gavin!”

There’s a slight shuffle in the kitchen, where the majority of the guys are still huddled around the pizza, before a cry of “What?!” comes back, the accent and small laugh at the end of it leaving no mistake as to who responded. 

That warmth rears up inside the redhead again, for no particular reason, and he smiles, winking at Ray before shouting, “Get me another beer!”

Ray doesn’t bother to hide his laugh as a slightly miffed-sounding Gavin responds, “Why can’t you get your lazy ass up and get it yourself, you dope!”

But Gavin barely has time to finish his sentence before Michael yells, as loud as possible, “YOU’RE MY BOY, GAVIN!!”

Laughter ensues from the kitchen but Gavin doesn’t respond, and Michael can only picture what’s happening, a resigned Gavin turning towards the fridge, trying to ignore the blatant mockery from the guys around him. Michael supposes he should feel bad, but he never has before, and hell if he’s going to start now, especially as that fifth beer is starting to sink in. 

"He’s going to get you back for all this you know," Ray mutters, shaking his head and laughing. He returns his attention to his game, fingers fumbling slightly as he tries to focus on the screen through alcohol induced imbalance.

Michael scoffs, “What’s he going to do, fucking drown me in the pool? Stick the beer up my ass?”

"That would get you drunk faster, I think. Alcohol is absorbed better that way."

"Then what’s the fucking problem?!"

Ray laughs but doesn’t answer as Gavin bounds out of the kitchen, several beers in his hands, looking rather like a child at Christmas. “Michael! I brought some! Cause you’re my boy, Michael.”

He plops abruptly on Michael’s lap, who’s only mildly irritated that he can’t watch Ray train-wreck his game anymore. Gavin tries his best to turn around and place the beers on the table, but leans a bit too far and Michael has to grab his arm to steady him. Gavin giggles insanely. 

"Sorry, Michael…"

But he’s still wobbling slightly, and Michael takes a good look at the Brit’s face, eyes slightly misted over with a dorkish smile. “Gavin, are you…” he busts out laughing. “Are you drunk already?”

Gavin tries to act shocked and immediately goes on the defensive. “Michael, they told me I was behind everyone else and they laughed at me, and-“

Michael, still smiling, takes the bottles from Gavin and reaches around to place them on the table. “Gavin everyone knows you’re a lightweight, you shouldn’t do it cause they told you, you know they’re going to fuck with you.”

"I like being a lightweight though, it makes me cheap date," Gavin smiles, steadying himself. The fronts of his feet are kicking the couch of their own accord, and Michael grins. Fucking adorable. 

"Well, if you’re already drunk, I might as well join you," Michael sighs, shifting forward to grab the nearest bottle are carefully as he can, so as not to knock the taller man off. The forward motion led to a quick discovery to the decent buzz he had, and he made a mental note to never forget the way Gavin’s leg muscles tightened around him to get a better grip.

Fuck. 

"You’re already there Michael, I can see it in your face," Gavin grinned. "You’ve just been sitting here, letting it simmer-"

"Gavin, you didn’t open the bottles."

Gavin blinks, trying to comprehend what Micheal said. Michael, in turn, wiggles the bottle slightly, a chastising expression on his face. Gavin’s smile drops. “Damn. I’ll go get it, hang on.”

He attempts to dislodge his legs from where they had sunk between Michael’s and the cushions, but the redhead cut him off, holding his arm with a slightly softened grip than what Gavin was used to from him. The Brit looks at him curiously, and Michael makes the horrible mistake of close-quarters eye contact. 

Gavin has the kindest eyes he’s ever seen, and intoxication only seems to make that fact stand out and slap Michael repeatedly in the face. Gavin is still gazing at him, waiting for him to say something, and Michael feels his heart catch somewhere in his throat. Only Ray’s well-timed curse in the background is enough to help him break contact, and he shifts his eyes back to his beer.

"It’s fine, I got it," he mumbles, sticking the cap on top of his bottom canine teeth and popping it open. A bit painful, but a talent his laziness truly relied on, and respected. He leans back again and takes a sip. He may have forced his concentration on his first drink a bit too heavily, as he missed the exact moment Gavin’s hands found their way from the sofa to his hips, but the warmth that spread through his body at the contact wasn’t so easy to put out of his mind. 

Fuck he was really warm.

Michael pretended to ignore it and took the longest swig he could muster to buy himself time to think properly, which was becoming incredibly more difficult. These were still thought processes he’d have normally, right?

He glanced at Gavin to find the boy looking at him with an expression somewhere between arousal, fascination, and captivation. Michael raised his eyebrow.

"What?"

"That," Gavin responds, his voice just a had huskier than Michael remembers, "Was incredibly sexy.

Michael’s brain was operating on overtime, grasping for memories of sober reactions to Gavin placing himself in his lap. How had it always been so easy to ignore this all the other times? Michael swallowed and looked at Gavin, whose pupils were getting dark, clouded with—

He needed that smart ass comeback immediately. He needed to get this situation back onto controlled ground.

"No it’s not. It’s just opening a bottle. You learn to adapt. Like Darwinism or something."

The words came out of his mouth completely on autopilot, and he was grateful they had made any sense at all. The beer was feeling very loose in his hand, and maybe, just maybe, six had been too many. He was suddenly hyper aware of Gavin’s comfortable weight, the smell of his body wash, Ray mashing buttons frantically on his controller, the chatter in the kitchen down the hall… none of it was uncomfortable to him, and he takes another drink as he tries to figure out if it should be. This wasn’t an uncommon position for them, so why did every move Gavin make sudden become exceptionally hard to ignore?

Gavin shifts slightly, adjusting himself so he was directly straddling Michael, and took the beer out of the redhead’s hand. 

"My turn," he mutters, and proceeds to drain the remainder of the bottle, one hand coming down very suddenly on Michael’s stomach to help him keep his balance. As if the position wasn’t so overly sexual that Michael’s breath hitches slightly, he feels Gavin’s zipper rub against his with a small, metallic sound that was enough to make him realize exactly what it was he was feeling right now. 

"Gavin, knock it off."

Something on Michael’s face must have given him away, as Gavin finishes his beer and smiles down at Michael, a mischievous grin sliding across his face. 

Goddamn those fucking eyes.

"What’s wrong, love?" he asks, rocking his hips steadily into Michael’s, a move that showed anyone who cared to be watching exactly how many fucks he didn’t give. Michael’s eyes fluttered closed despite himself, and whatever blood that was keeping his brain and sober thoughts afloat immediately headed south. He could feel Gavin through his pants.

Get it together. Get it together. 

He opened his eyes and tried to lean forward towards the table. 

"You’re getting me hard, is what’s wrong."

Yeah. Alcohol would definitely improve this situation. He reached out for the beer, Gavin’s hand moving off of his stomach to be replaced on his back, and it took everything Michael had to ignore it. He was intent on distracting himself in any possible way he could.

Gavin’s eyes are incredibly dark now, and he gently pushes Michael back before he can grab the bottle, movements a bit sloppy, but determined. Michael has the crazy thought that he doesn’t know whether to hate the guy who convinced Gavin to drink so much, or thank him on hands and knees. Michael allows himself to be pressed back, and in his drunken haze he suddenly realizes Gavin is grinding into him now, hips moving back and forth, using the couch to gain leverage. Michael is numb, but his hands tighten into the cushions as Gavin’s face comes closer, and he prays to god he can kiss him or touch him or tear his hair out, anything to distract from how fucking good it feels to have Gavin’s dick pressed against his. 

"But I haven’t even started yet," Gavin whispers in the most seductive voice the redhead has ever heard, and Michael momentarily loses his mind, hands furiously grabbing Gavin’s shirt as he bucks back up against him, craving any sweet release he can get. 

But suddenly Gavin is gone, pulled away from him and back into the kitchen before Michael can comprehend the missing warmth. He sits there awkwardly, mind reeling as he tries to grasp what has just happened, and whether or not it’s normal for his best friend’s dick to turn him on so much. In confusion, and a slight pang of embarrassment and horror, he looks across the coffee table to find Ray gazing at him with a bemused expression. 

"I told you he’d get you back, Michael. You asshole."


	2. 2

If there wasn’t anything Michael didn’t lack, it was confidence. He could always, always do well in any situation presented to him, be it job interviews, asking out a girl, being on camera… he had always felt comfortable in his own skin. 

Which made the two and a half minute hesitation before getting out of his car this morning that much more noticeable. 

The remainder of Friday evening, and the weekend to follow, had passed without much incident. Gavin reverted back to his normal self, and any further physical contact with Michael had been unavoidable arm brushes when either of them sat down. Gavin smiled and laughed and made an ass out of himself for everyone’s amusement, but neither avoided nor payed Michael any special attention. Ray mentioned nothing, for which Michael was both grateful and slightly flustered, as an acknowledgement from a third party that the moment had actually happened would have put a lot of stress off his mind. In fact, by Sunday morning, Michael had convinced himself that Gavin had just sat on his lap and they, hugged, or something.

He wasn’t sure his brain was quite accepting that downgrade though, and thus became terrified of getting a boner. Like, ever again. If it had been Gavin of all things the last time, fuck knows what it would be from in the future. 

Not that being attracted to Gavin would be the worst thing to admit.

Michael groaned, slamming his head into the steering wheel.

Stupid British prick.

"Michael, you alright?"

Michael shot up, startled, and looked through his window to see Burnie’s confused face peering at him. He shook off all straying thoughts from his mind and opened the door, Burnie stepping back a bit to let him out. 

"You’ve been out here since I pulled up like five minutes ago, are you okay?"

Michael pulled at his pants a bit where they had been sagging, and nudged his drivers side door shut with his foot. “Yeah dude, sorry. Just stuff.”

Burnie nodded, “Girl stuff?”

Despite himself, Michael smiled and stuffed his hands in his pockets, turning to walk with Burnie up to the front of the Rooster Teeth building. “Nah, man.”

This time, Burnie grinned, “Ah, dude stuff?”

Now this is where Michael’s life became hard. A normal reaction to a bad gay joke suddenly became something he had to search for, and that former confidence level he had seemed to take a violent dip, sending out ripples of unpleasant realizations through his whole body. Why. Why did everything always have to be about dicks here.

It took him a moment, but he snapped back, feeling the smile come to his face naturally. “Yeah man, it’s just…dicks, y’know. I can’t get them out of my head. Just dicks, all the time.”

Burnie nodded solemnly, face filled with understanding sympathy as he held open the door for Michael. “I understand, my friend. We’ve all been there. Dicks are mighty, majestic things. Sometimes, our heads just lose track of time, and we end up in a world where there is nothing but cock, as far as the eye can see.”

Michael was so lost in laughter as they walked into the kitchen that he nearly missed the voice asking, “That’s a lot of bloody cock, Burnie.”

Of course the first fucking person he’d run across inside was Gavin. Why the fuck wouldn’t it be? He sat perched, cross-legged on the counter, a phone in one hand and a glass of water in the other. His hair was mussed up and his jeans had holes in the knees. In his mind, Michael tried to bitterly curse him out for being such a prick, but was slightly relieved (and annoyed) that he was still too fond of Gavin to be able to do so.

Burnie laughed, grabbing a soda from the fridge. “Talk to Michael about it, he’s the one who can’t get dick off his brain.”

Michael froze. No. Oh no. No no no.

"Really?" Gavin laughed, his expression perking up as he took a quick drink. 

"Yeah. Hey you could probably help him out Gav, you know all about cock," Burnie laughed, patting Michael on the shoulder before walking out of the kitchen, ignoring Gavin’s undignified "Hey!" that was shouted after him.

Michael, however, was on the very thin line of having his shit under control, and full on terrified. To buy himself time, he followed Burnie’s lead and opened the door to the fridge, pulling out a Dr. Pepper. He heard Gavin jump down from the counter, and he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

It’s just Gavin.

A light clicked on, and a miracle happened. It was just Gavin! Gavin, the stupid prick he made fun of everyday, who couldn’t help but be a mockery of himself. Gavin, who was the blunt end of every cheap shot Michael could come up with; Gavin, who positively bounded up to Michael everyday, just begging to be insulted. This was still that same guy, the one Michael knew and loved and was never afraid of. He turned around, his confidence back, with the full intention of giving Gavin a taste of what he could bring to the table. If Gavin wanted to be gay, Michael could gay the whole fucking place up. 

But the instant he turned around, all thoughts were sapped out of him faster than he could catch his breath. 

Gavin was closer to him now, and those same kind eyes had that same flash from Friday night, distinct and dark and far more powerful than Michael would ever have given him credit for. Gavin smiled at him, a horrible, knowing smile, that shook Michael deep.

What had been his plan again? His thoughts fumbled as Gavin stepped closer, his eyes focused on Michael. He prayed anyone would walk in right now, save him from this, but as Gavin’s hand reached out to slide against Michael’s waist, locking into his belt loop, he had the quick, blinding hope that everyone else would just get the fuck out of the building.

"Can’t get dick out of your head, huh?" Gavin smiled, but it wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t playful, it was mischievous and coy and it was picking Michael apart piece by fucking piece. Gavin pressed him up against the wall, and Michael, brain feeling like a melting pot, lets him without any hesitation, without any shame. Gavin’s hand is still curled against his side, tender yet forceful, and every breath Michael takes feels harder to get to his lungs. Gavin’s chest is against his, warm, and he barely has time to hope he doesn’t pop another tent in his pants before Gavin leans in.

"That’s incredibly interesting."

And he’s gone. Gone again, down the hallway, calling out behind him, “Come on then, Geoff wants to start the Let’s play early today, it’s going to be a two-parter.”

Michael lets out a shaky breath, and turns around to grab several more cans of soda. 

Fuck this day.

 

—-

 

Of course it was a Minecraft Let’s Play, and the only bright side Michael could see to this was at least it wasn’t team-based, and would allow him to ignore Gavin as long as possible both physically and virtually. He was so invested on planning how stay away from Gavin the whole game that he completely missed when the objective was given out. Suddenly everyone was scattered in different directions and he cursed slightly, running into his house and opening his chest, wondering if they were allowed to use any of it. 

"Hey. Ray. Hey," he mumbled. 

"Yeah?" he asked back, leaning to the right a bit. It was all stupid, they knew, cause the mics were picking up everything, but it was still an enjoyable pastime for all of them.

"…What are we doing?"

Of course everyone was able to hear him and the room laughed, with Geoff’s “Jesus, Michael….” floating around in the midst of it all.

"Just ignore him, Ray," Gavin interrupted, and Michael’s eyes flashed in his direction. "Bugger’s had dick on the brain all morning."

More laughter erupted, and Michael tried to hide his reaction by focusing on the game, running in the general direction of Ray’s tuxedo’ed character, crazily hoping that he’d find some sort of sanctuary there. But of course, the joke wasn’t over.

"Who’s dick is it, Michael? Gavin’s right?" Jack asked, and Michael mentally cursed, hating everyone.

"Maviiiiiiiin!" Ray shouted, and Michael shot him a betrayed look. Ray just put his fingers over his mouth, imitating a school girl, and tried to act ashamed of himself. Despite his embarrassment, Michael smiled, finding sudden inspiration.

"Yeah, it’s Gavin’s, you caught me," Michael sighed, and to his right he could just barely see Gavin’s finger slip off the controller. Feeling smug with the sudden slight power advantage, Michael continued. "I just… it’s just so small, I can’t stop thinking about it. Like, how do you get laid, Gavin? Like, ever?"

He chanced a full look at Gavin, and was surprised to see his friend grinning at him. Michael didn’t hesitate to smile back, feeling a sense of normalcy returning. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, Gavin’s behavior. He’s done stranger things in the past. Maybe all of this was just some new form of pranking Gavin stupidly thought he’d try.

He was only partially aware of everyone cat-calling and laughing at Gavin’s expense, still too caught up in trying to figure out the situation Gavin had landed them in. 

But Gavin, never the one to let an insult begrudge his spirit, replied causally, as if he had it planned all along, “Well, you don’t need a huge dick to get laid, do you? All you have to do is be like, hey, love, and press them against the wall, and if they melt into putty they’re yours for the rest of the night. Right Michael?”

He met Michael’s eyes, and Michael felt his face positively burning. He knew he had to keep up his persona thought, had to keep it going, or else he’d have quite a few annoying questions popping up on the Youtube comments. He mumbled the first thing that popped into his head that felt appropriate enough to say. 

"That’s my boy, Gavin."

Gavin smiled at him, before returning to his game, “I am indeed your boy, Michael.”

The rest of the room “awww’d” as per usual, but Michael’s heart was racing too fast to keep up with anything else beyond the space between his chair and Gavin’s, and it took a moment before he realized in horror that he had run completely down Ray’s mine shaft and had been standing there like a dope behind Ray as he mined. 

Ray finally noticed, and turned to look at Michael, an eyebrow raised. Michael’s hands were still shaking a bit, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his friend, and he mouthed “Help me” at Ray, a complete and utter mess at this point. He wasn’t sure exactly what Ray was going to think of him, but at this point he didn’t know where else to turn, and he had already wasted five minutes running around in a useless panic over the commentary Gavin was recording.

"You’re worse than Gavin, you know that?" Ray smiled, returning to his game. He turned his character around and dropped Michael a few pickaxes. "Now go find diamonds and yell at people. It’s all you’re good for."

"He’s actually crap at finding diamonds though, really," Ryan replied, and slowly the talk between them all resumed it’s usual banter, with Ryan and Geoff discussing exactly how deeply you needed to go to find diamonds, and if you had better chances actually looking or just getting lucky.

Michael took a deep breath.

He was fine. 

He could do this.

But the rest of the Let’s Play was spent dodging Ray’s teasing and questioning glances, and trying to ignore how he was suddenly aware of every move Gavin made, every word he said, and how his heartbeat sped up as a reaction to either of them. His confidence had always been his weapon against anyone, Gavin included, but somehow, Gavin had managed to break him of that as well.

He had no defenses, and he was terrified.


	3. 3

"Michael, do you want to get strawberry margaritas?"

Michael blinked, taking off his headphones and looking around him. 

What? Strawberry _what?_

Gavin stood there behind him, a small smile on his face as he ate from one of those tiny Ben and Jerry’s cups. Michael had been deeply invested in editing the new Saint’s Row video he made, and at least a hour or two had passed since he’d even spoken to anyone, much less Gavin, who he was still actively avoiding. 

He scratched the back of his head where the headphones had irritated him and shot Gavin a confused look. 

"You said…what? Margaritas?"

"Yup," Gavin responded in a matter-of-fact tone. "Strawberry ones."

Michael shook his head, turning back to his edit. “You’re a fucking moron, where are we going to get strawberry margaritas?”

Generally, it was habit of Gavin to suggest multitudes of things that were either unattainable or un-doable on a regular basis, so it wasn’t necessarily out of line to assume this was another one of Gavin’s idiotic suggestions based off of something as vague as trying to actually _pronounce_ the word strawberry correctly. 

"Benji’s is having a two for one special. You order one and you get another one for free, and whatnot."

Michael paused and bit his lip. Huh. 

"This is a real thing, right?" He asked Gavin, looking up at him over his glasses. "It’s not like a coupon from three years ago?"

"Nope," Gavin smiled, "Barbara told me about it earlier."

Michael grinned. “Well fuck yes then, let’s get some bevs, boy!” and stuck out his hand to fist bump Gavin, who enthusiastically responded with a smile that lit up his whole face, before running out of the room, yelling “Margaritaaaaaas!” as loud as he possibly could through the building. 

Michael was still smiling lightly several moments later when he noticed Ray staring rather blatantly at him. Michael did a double-take and swiveled his hair to the left a bit, trying to act nonchalant.

"What?"

Ray’s expression didn’t change, but he brought his hand up to his chin in feigned thought for a moment before asking, “So, will be Michael Free, or Gavin Jones? Which one is keeping the last name at marriage?”

"Shut the fuck up, Ray," Michael laughed, and despite the fact that the jokes were partially his fault due to his disastrous meltdown this morning, he was able to look at the situation better from a distance this time. Several hours had passed since they finished the video, and since everyone else seemed to think the shaky wordplay between himself and Gavin required no special attention, Michael himself had started to calm down. And with Gavin being a dumbass like usual, he felt more on equal ground.

As long as the Brit didn’t do that weird shit with his eyes again.

"Just asking," Ray shrugged, "I want to know who to send the lube to, since both of you are too dumb to remember it. And I have to think that the person changing their name will be the bottom."

Michael ignored him and starting checking his phone, realizing he had about half a dozen missed messages while he’d been editing. Ray was trying to set him off, as per usual for Ray, and he wasn’t having it.

"I bet Michael’s on bottom."

Ray immediately started busting up in laughter, and Michael, shocked, looked over at Geoff, who he hadn’t been aware had his volume down low enough to hear the conversation. 

"What the fuck, Geoff?!" Michael demanded, "What the fuck do you mean I’d be on bottom?!"

Ray just laughed harder, and Geoff shrugged, avoiding Michael’s bewildered face and trying to contain his own laughter. “I’m just saying it feels like Gavin would be the guy on top. He’s more…”

"He’s more what?!" Michael interrupted, torn between laughter and embarrassment. "He’s more nothing! I’m way more masculine than him! I’ve got muscles for _days!_ ”

Geoff lost his composure at that, coughing into a fit of laughter. Michael was able to mutter a horrified “Jesus _Christ_ , guys…” in the midst of their assault, running a hand though his hair and trying not to wonder how serious they were actually being.

"It’s not about muscles though, is it?" Ray asked, snickering behind his hand. 

"Nah," Geoff answered lightly, still hiccuping with laughter, "It’s about who’s in control."

Michael, who intended to leave the argument where it was, felt hot disbelief swell up in him again, and he wheeled his chair back around to stare at Geoff.

"What the fuck? Are you kidding?" Michael yelled, "He’s a fucking prick who probably has to try six times a morning just to get his shirt on the right way! He couldn’t even win a debate with me if I told him the fucking sky was green! Fucking in control, he doesn’t even know what the word control _means!_ ”

By now both guys were collapsed in their chairs from laughter, and Geoff had to take a minute to steady his breathing before responding, “Yeah, but you’d fucking do anything that little “prick” asked you to do, wouldn’t you?”

Michael, steaming, was finally struck silent, and that only made Geoff and Ray laugh harder, if it was possible. Before Michael could gather his thoughts, Gavin’s head popped back into the room.

"Michael, do you think you could—"

Michael jumped up, livid, and pointed furiously at Gavin.

"NO GAVIN! NO! I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING, BECAUSE I AM FUCKING IN CONTROL! NOW GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"

Michael completely lost his shit and stormed out of the room, leaving Geoff and Ray roaring with laughter and Gavin completely bewildered. 

Gavin, a bit of a smile on his face, looked between the two. 

"What’s got him all brassed off?"

—-

Michael sat in his car, A/C on blast with the side of his face smashed so hard into the steering wheel he could feel the indention. He hadn’t meant to yell at Gavin. But, yet again, that was the great thing about Gavin. Michael could yell at him all he’d like, and Gavin had only seemed to give less and less of a shit as time went on. 

He switched sides, pressing his left cheek into the wheel this time and feeling the cold air soften the red marks on his right. His glasses were slightly askew but he made no effort to adjust himself or take them off. He closed his eyes, bitter.

He didn’t know how long he sat alone in his car before the passenger door opened and Ray slid in, Michael neither surprised nor elated, but slightly grateful for the man’s presence. Ray said nothing as he shut the door and opened two cans of red bull, taking a long drink of his and nudging the second into Michael’s hand until the red head eventually gave in and took it. 

They sat there alone in silence for a few minutes, listening to the A/C pump and the soft sounds of radio chatter that Michael had turned down low. Finally he sat up and took a drink, rubbing his reddened face and trying to adjust his glasses correctly.

"He’s not mad, if you’re wondering," Ray said, breaking the silence.

Michael nodded. “I know he’s not.”

"Then what’s wrong?"

Michael hesitated, not entirely sure how to respond. What was wrong? The fact that he was suddenly incoherent when he was alone with Gavin? The fact that, for the first time, he felt bad about yelling at him? That he was nervous about getting drunk with him again?

He didn’t say anything back, and instead took another drink, buying time. 

Ray sighed. “Did something happen with you two?”

Michael swallowed and placed his forehead on the steering wheel again, looking blankly at his gas gauge. Yes? No? 

"You saw what happened. Friday night." Michael responded lightly, not sure yet where he wanted this conversation to go.

"I thought that was just you guys fucking around," Ray shrugged, "You do it a lot."

Michael turned his face towards Ray, feeling anger and frustration rise up in him again. “Did that look like regular fucking around to you?”

"I don’t know… it was pretty hot though."

"Ray."

"Okay," Ray replied, throwing his hands up a bit in defeat and glancing out the window at a squirrel running across the parking lot. "Yeah, it looked a bit much. I was kind of wondering if I should have walked out."

Michael bit his lip, turned back to face the steering wheel again as his heart raced. His mind became to wander back to Friday night, replaying what had happened in his head. What if Ray had left? Would Gavin had kept going?

Would he have let him?

"It’s not a big deal, Michael…" Ray said, a comforting edge to his tone that Michael had very rarely heard. 

"He cornered me in the kitchen before the Let’s Play today," Michael blurted out, his words so jumbled that it was barely an intelligible sentence. His hands were starting to feel a bit shaky again, and he shut his eyes, hoping that confining in Ray wouldn’t result in a case of wishing he had kept his foot in his mouth.

Ray didn’t respond immediately, and instead took another drink out of his can and brought his feet up to rest on the dashboard. 

"Well, that explain a lot, I guess. What happened?"

"I don’t know, he just… he got all weird."

Ray leaned back, adjusting himself. “Thanks for being specific, I was worried I wouldn’t understand you.”

"Hey fuck you," Michael struck back, "I give you details and it’ll end up on Brown Man’s tumblr or something."

Ray smiled and took another drink before softly replying, “You know I won’t tell a soul.”

Yeah, Michael knew that. And he couldn’t think of anyone else he would go to in a situation like this. Gavin was usually his first choice, but he had never expected Gavin to be the problem. Michael swallowed, suddenly nervous and a little bit lost.

"He… He pressed me against the wall. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he was just toying with me. Or something. I’m not sure." Michael paused, feeling a bit relieved to hear himself say it out loud. To admit that this was actually happening, and maybe him and Ray could be able to get a better grasp on it. "It was like he was seducing me, but he just walked off before anything happened. Same thing that he did on Friday."

"Did you want him to stop?"

"Ray!"

"I’m being serious!"

Michael scoffed, a bit of red gracing his face, but he had already gone this far. He knew Ray would never judge him, but he wasn’t so sure how badly he was going to judge himself.

"I don’t know…yes and no. If I were to make that decision, I’d like to know what was going on first. It’s been fucking with me pretty bad. And it’s making me lash out at him." He added, feeling ashamed of himself for realizing that yelling at Gavin was all he had wanted to do all day.

"Like I said, he’s not mad," Ray said, downing the rest of his drink and making indentations on the can with his fingers. "He’s never mad at you."

"That’s the frustrating part," Michael replied, pulling himself up and running a hand through his hair again, agitated. "I date girls and they’re always so hurt when I get angry, even when it’s not about them. And I’m so cruel to him on a daily basis, I yell and I insult him and he just lets it blow right over. I just don’t understand why he can put up with my shit, but the girls who claim to love me can’t. It’s fucking irritating. He drives me crazy for that shit."

"Why wouldn’t he put up with you?" Ray asks lightly, shrugging. "You put up with him all the time."

Michael didn’t respond, knowing Ray was right. Even more frustrated with himself than he had been previously, he bashed his head on the steering wheel again, groaning. “He’s my best friend, Ray.”

He could almost hear the smile in Ray’s voice. “Is he just your best friend though? I’m not sure why you keep going around trying to get all these girls to act like Gavin. Gavin’s been right there this whole time. I think he’s getting tired of waiting on you, honestly.”

Michael’s pulse went haywire, and his heart jumped up into his throat as his face shot up to look at Ray.

"What do you mean? Did he say something?"

Had Ray sat down with Gavin, just like this? Had Gavin told him anything? Had Ray been aware of some sort of crush that Gavin has had, for a long time maybe? Had Michael just been turning Gavin down over and over without realizing it? His mind was racing. 

"He didn’t have to tell me anything," Ray replied, opening the car door to step back out. "Maybe you just need to start paying more attention."

—-

He went back inside not long after Ray, and only had to work a little over and hour before he was finally done editing, despite there being so much on his mind. 

Ray’s words were still ringing clear in his head, and he couldn’t get a grasp on his own thoughts, much less figure out how to deal with his situation. The more he thought about it, the harder it became to understand it.

Gavin had never shown any particular sexual interest in Michael, other than the flirting that they all tended to do with each other. He hadn’t been convinced that Gavin was entirely straight though, and had been awaiting the day Gavin would introduce Michael to some boyfriend he had been hiding back in the UK. Michael, on the other hand, had never had a interest in dudes. He was rather fond of women, and the parts that came included with them, and was having a rough time trying to figure out if that intense desire to feel just a little bit more of Gavin Friday night had been a lot of alcohol and a strong fondness for his friend, or… something else.

He shook his head to clear his mind for what felt like the 4th time in the hour. 

He wasn’t ready for that realization yet.

Reluctantly, he got up from his desk and went out to find Gavin, hoping that a bit of alcohol and time to talk would be able to clear his head a bit. He meandered around the bottom floor a while, stopping to talk to Brandon on his way, feeling more calm and collected by the minute. He passed Ray who was talking avidly to Gus, and gave him an appreciative nod. Ray though, of course, gave him an extremely obvious wink and pointed to the second story. Michael rolled his eyes and flipped him off before climbing the stairs. 

He climbed them slowly, letting a new thought enter his mind with each step he took. He was relaxing. He was composed. He had given what Ray said considerable thought, but chose to ignore it and it’s implications. Gavin was his friend, his best friend. Not his boyfriend. They were bros, they were close, and nothing would be able to break that, and certainly not some casual flirting. Everything would be fine. They’d go for drinks, maybe fuck around with some games at Michael’s apartment, and everything would be back to normal by tomorrow, where he could brush arms with Gavin without feeling his pulse skyrocket. Everything would be fine, and in a few weeks, he’d forget that any of this had happened. 

When he reached the final step though, and looked up to find Barbara seated in Gavin’s lap at her desk, his calm was immediately crushed as a new emotion took it’s place, one he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Jealousy. 

Gavin had heard him come up and peeked over her shoulder as she continued to smile at whatever they were looking at online. One of his arms that had been circled around her waist waved at him, and he smiled brightly, obviously unaware at how Michael had tensed up. 

"Michael, hi! Are you ready to be off?"

Barbara, who looked up when Gavin spoke, grinned at him and added a sweet, “Hey, Michael!” after Gavin’s question.

Michael, however, couldn’t get his eyesight past Gavin’s arms curled around her as her small frame sat perfectly on his lap. She was an exceptionally beautiful woman, and this wouldn’t have been the first time he’s been envious of whoever she happened to be cozied up to that day, but at this moment all Michael could feel was a twinge of hurt, and a significant amount of inadequacy. 

"Yeah I’m ready," Michael pushed out, clearing his throat. "Just waiting on you."

"Lovely," Gavin replied, tapping Barbara on the thigh as a sign for her to get up, which she did reluctantly. 

"Where are you going?" She asked curiously as Gavin got up and fixed his shirt. It had been riding up as he sat there, and another pang of jealousy shot through Michael as Gavin bent down and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Out for drinks," Gavin replied, standing back up straight and walking towards Michael, grabbing his arm to lead him back down the stairs. Michael barely noticed. He was still starting at Barb, sizing her up and looking for any sign in her body language that would give away any equal jealousy on her part. She seemed unfazed, however, and waved goodbye as Gavin dragged him down the stairs, calling out to Geoff that they were leaving for the day.

The sun was still in the sky as they walked out of the building, starting down the sidewalk towards the bar only a block away. Michael had stayed silent, attempting to let his emotions settle. It proved more difficult than he anticipated as thoughts flew in and out of his mind at random, bringing up questions he was dying to ask, but afraid to get an answer to. This fear only proved to frustrate him more, and he blurted out his questions before he could think twice.

"Are you and Barbara dating?"

Gavin didn’t seem surprised, only looked at him and grinned, “Why?”

"I dunno," Michael shrugged, feeling Gavin’s personal spotlight suddenly being thrust upon him. "You guys just seem really close."

He cursed himself. It was like high school all over again, with awkwardness and stupid questions abound. He prayed Gavin would just see this as friendly conversation, light teasing maybe. This is what they’d talk about normally, right?

"Do we? We’re just friends… but the internet thinks we’re shagging," Gavin laughed. "That’s what we were reading online."

Michael felt his jealousy subside, and his embarrassment grow. He was making an ass out of himself for nothing. It only irritated him more though that the thought of Gavin with someone, anyone else, was met with vicious backlash. He felt guilty and confused… Barbara hadn’t deserved that. 

He was silent again for several minutes, listen to Gavin talk about the theories of him and Barb that were flying around the web. He tried to focus his thoughts, figure out why he was so against the idea of them together. Barbara was great, she and Gavin were great friends, and Michael couldn’t imagine her ever hurting him… but he still wanted no part in blessing it. The idea of seeing her hold him, kiss him caused a flair of anger to rise inside of him. 

_I can make him happier._

He swallowed quickly, his heart beating furiously as he tried to wash away that thought with denial and excuses. Him and Gavin, together? What, fucking waking up and making breakfast? Holding hands when they went out? Having anniversaries and a puppy and joint accounts and being able to fuck him every night—

He stopped himself as he felt blood rush from his brain and his body heat up. He wasn’t able to get the imagine of Gavin beneath him, sweating, breathing “Michael…!” fast enough before his dick was pressing against his jeans. 

No, no. This was stupid. He had to end this now.

His pulse was racing as he interrupted Gavin with “I dunno. I think you guys would make a cute couple.”

They had reached the bar, and Gavin’s sudden halt of speech was both intimidating and frightening, because if anyone was able to see right through Michael, it was him, and Michael had never felt more transparent in his entire life. He didn’t want to talk about Barbara any more, he didn’t want to talk about how cute of a couple they would be, and he didn’t want to talk about how no sentence he’d ever said before could equal how fake the one that just spilled from his mouth had been.

Gavin reached for the door before Michael could, and ushered him inside, leaning down to whisper teasing words that caused Michael’s whole body to tense.

"Jealousy’s not a good look for you, love."


	4. 4

Among the many things Michael does well, hiding any embarrassing emotions behind a swift torrent of anger was well at the top of the list. So when Gavin nudged him through the precariously placed tables to sit at the far end of the bar, Michael immediately clouded his blatant jealousy and insecurity with good old fashioned shit talking. 

"Who says I’m jealous anyway?" he snapped, adjusting his wallet in his pants pocket to fit more comfortably. "Although, I could probably make you happier than she would."

Gavin gave him a smug grin as he sat down on the stool next to him. “Oh yeah? Any why’s that? Because we’re soul mates, Michael?”

"No," Michael scoffed, "Because I have a dick. And if there’s anything you like more than tits, it’s cum-guzzling."

"Ah, don’t be so mean, Michael!" Gavin replied with a whine. He turned towards the bartender, a pretty brunette with soft eyes, and called her over. She responded fairly quickly, and it only took Michael a few moments to realize she was new from her nervous stride and rather frantic movements. He glanced at Gavin, who had obviously noticed the same thing by the way his eyes lit up and he sat his body up a little straighter. Michael rolled his eyes and looked around the room while Gavin ordered. 

He had only been here a few times, usually preferring the brighter lights and higher chatter of downtown Austin. The chairs and booth were well lined with cushions, and Michael could barely see through the low lights that several of them had names carved into them for locals who frequented. The corners and creases of the walls were all decorated with cheap Christmas lights, and various nonsensical paintings and ornaments were strewn about the walls, reflecting and bouncing the colors throughout the room. A few people littered the bar, each of them with friendly faces and a warm demeanor. He smiled to himself, thinking maybe this place wasn’t so bad, compared to downtown. It might even be nice to get Rooster Teeth carved into one of those big booths. Or, maybe, a smaller one, for just him and Gavin…

"Michael!"

Michael jumped, turning back around to face Gavin who was eyeing him with a small smile. 

"What?"

"You dope, I’ve been saying your name about twenty times already."

Michael sighed and stretched, “Sorry, I figured you wouldn’t be done flirting for another hour or so.”

"Do you think she likes me?" Gavin smiled, tilting his head a bit so he can peer past Michael to where the pretty brunette was making drinks and talking avidly with another patron. Her eyes closed shut when she laughed or smiled, and Michael thought it might be the cutest damn thing he’s ever seen. 

"How come every time we go out," Michael sighed, kicking Gavin in the leg, "You try and mate with something?"

"I’m not trying to mate with her,” Gavin replied, looking a bit insulted and rubbing his leg. “I just think she’s a bit of a fit bird, don’t you?”

Michael laughed. “Gavin, if you call her a ‘fit bird’ she’s not going to have any idea what the fuck you’re saying. I _still_ don’t even have any idea what the fuck you’re saying half the time, and I’ve known you for like two years.”

"Two years, and you still haven’t shacked up with me yet!" Gavin laughed, "A bit demoralizing, really."

Michael’s fingers starting doing that annoying thing again, bending themselves into fists as he tried to keep his body from giving anything away. Suddenly the distance between him and Gavin was a measurable unit, and the way Gavin’s voice had dropped a bit deeper was almost palpable.

"I haven’t shacked up with you cause I’m not gay, Gavin," Michael said, plastering a what he hoped was a convincing look on his face. "That, and you’re… what’s the word you use? Beastly?"

Gavin gasped comically, but didn’t have a chance to reply as the pretty bartender had come back, placing two over sized margaritas in front of them. Michael cursed under his breath as he tried to fathom exactly how much tequila was likely hidden behind that innocent strawberry pretense, and was happy that Gavin was the one paying tonight. 

"Here you boys are, two strawberry margaritas, extra dirty," she smiled at Gavin, but her face lit up with red as she spoke, clearly still uncomfortable with sexualized atmosphere she was supposed to be fluid in. 

Gavin, of course, gave her a sly wink. “Thank you, love. But, before you go, could you answer a quick question for me?”

She bit her lip, but seemed to see Gavin as trustworthy (or just charming), and nodded her head, mumbling a soft “Sure…” Michael leaned in for a sip of his drink, feeling a bit ridiculous as he usually only ordered beer or shots. He watched Gavin suspiciously, both intrigued and slightly terrified at what was going to come out of his mouth.

"Thanks in advance, love," Gavin smiled at her, and her cheeks flared up again. "Now, my friend here has just called me a very offensive term. "Beastly," actually," he said, and shot Michael a dirty look, which Michael blatantly ignored. "And I was hoping you could clear this mess up and let me know which of us do you think is the more attractive?"

"God _damnit_ Gavin!” Michael instantly shot his head up, trying to hide his laughter behind a mask of shocked indecency. ”You can’t just put someone on the spot like that!”

Both her and Gavin looked over at him, her with a bit of relief that the spotlight was now on Michael, and Gavin with a slightly bemused smile.

"Why ever not?" he asked, taking a quick drink. "I just wanted an unbiased opinion."

Michael shook his head and turned towards the girl. 

"You can just say him and get this over with. He’s leaving the tip anyway, so you might as well."

She looked as though she might be offended for a moment, but with one last bite of her lip she reached down under the counter and tore a strip of paper off of what looked to be a time schedule. Standing back up, she hastily wrote something down on it and passed it over to Gavin, who took it greedily. 

"I hope that answers your question," she smiled at Gavin, giving him a very embarrassed wink and shooting Michael a knowing glance, which Michael also chose to ignore. Once she had walked away, Michael made a mad jump for the paper in Gavin’s hand, and the two had an intense, silent struggle trying to rip the others fingers open in an attempt to get a hold of it. 

Gavin came out the victor only because Michael didn’t want to make a scene, and with gusto he unraveled the paper to reveal a scribbled phone number with ‘Samantha’ written underneath it. 

"Good for you," Michael replied dryly, turning back to his drink so he could didn’t have to look at Gavin’s smug expression. "Looks like someone wants to mate with you as well."

"Oh, don’t be jealous Michael," Gavin laughed, turning Michael’s stool to face him and nudging his legs apart so Gavin could fit his knees in between them. He leaned close into Michael, wrapping his arms around the redheads waist. "I’ll still shag you, if you ask nicely."

Michael felt that heat pool in him again, and wasn’t slow to note how Gavin’s hands had pressed a little too firmly into his back. Hastily, he kicked the Brit off of him, turning back around to face the counter and taking the longest drink he possibly could. 

"I’d appreciate it," he responded finally, pressing his palm into his forehead to ward away his brain freeze, "If you’d at least get drunk before you hit on me. It makes it less weird."

Gavin just shrugged, his lips curling into a smile around his straw. Michael took a deep breath and tried to get the blood pulsing back into his head. 

 

—-

 

Two hours later, they were down one margarita each, three shots, and two beers. Michael was feeling distinctly wobbly, and was mindlessly wishing they had installed backs on the stools to prevent the accident that was surely awaiting him or Gavin. 

Gavin, more likely, as he was just as good at holding his liquor as he was at holding his tongue. He had already starting getting a bit dumber by the time they got into shots, and Michael knew the Brit had only kept going so he wouldn’t look like a pussy. Michael had taken it as a personal challenge to see how fast get could get Gavin inebriated just by having him play copy-cat, but failed to realize that his body couldn’t handle as much as he anticipated either. 

They had been silent for a moment, recovering from the fits of laughter that came from Michael attempting to teach Gavin the words to Loverboy songs. They were sitting closer together now, a distance they had become comfortable to when they had to share a computer screen for co-op Let’s Plays or Rage Quits, and Michael was thinking blissfully about how lucky he was to be exactly where he was at when Gavin interrupted his thoughts. 

"Do you ever think you’ll have kiddies?"

Michael blinked a few times before narrowing his eyes at Gavin. “You mean…kids? Like babies? Like being a daddy?”

"Yeah," Gavin breathed, and Michael was quick to pick up that distinct tone of longing and awe that only Gavin was able to portray. This was apparently something that had been on his mind for a while. 

"I don’t know… yeah, I suppose. In the future. I mean, I want to make sure I’m having kids with a Class A broad, you know. Can’t rush something like that, don’t want to waste baby-making juice on someone I don’t even like."

Gavin smiled at him. “If she ain’t an eight, she don’t rate. Right? That’s what you always told me.”

"That’s my boy," Michael smiled, and took another drink. 

Gavin sighed, however, and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. 

"I mean… that’s what I’m afraid of though."

"What? That you’ll never find someone you’ll like enough?"

"No…" Gavin paused. "That I’ll never find someone who likes _me_ enough.”

Michael hesitated before taking another drink. He knew Gavin was a bit self-conscious at times, but he never thought it went as deep as believing someone would never love him enough to have children with him. The thought that Gavin could think so lowly of himself was a pang in Michael’s heart, and he felt his body start to ache from it. He was torn between the desire to literally smack common sense into him, and to reach out and pull Gavin a little bit closer. Maybe tell him he was beautiful. 

Michael furrowed his brows. There was that thought again, worming it’s way into his consciousness. It didn’t seem like such a bad thought now though, with the alcohol tearing down his defenses almost as well as Gavin could. Gavin was beautiful, after all. Why shouldn’t Michael be able to tell him that?

"That’s stupid, Gavin," he replied, finally taking that drink. "You’d be a great father, and tons of people love you. Fuck, I love you enough, I’d have kids with you if I could."

Gavin’s face broke into a smile. “Would you? Really?”

"Sure," Michael said, trying to look nonchalant about the whole conversation, while the back of his mind was screaming at him to stop while he was ahead, to stop, before he said something incredibly stupid. But that part was vanishing backwards into the recesses of his brain along with his common sense, replaced by a desire to hold in and capture the way Gavin was looking at him right now. To never, ever be able to let that image go. “I mean, we could adopt, or do a surrogate or something. I don’t know. There’s ways.”

"You’re serious?" Gavin grinned, sitting up. His eyes were alight, bright and gorgeous. His voice was a disbelieving whisper. "You’d actually do that for me?"

Michael shrugged. “Sure. But I mean, I’d only want to have kids with someone I was actually in a relationship with, you know.”

Wait. 

He met Gavin’s eyes, which flashed brightly, a flicker of hope and desire and acceptance, a flicker of shyness, a flicker of indescribable love. Michael swallowed, and whatever further words he had planned to say became jumbled and caught in his throat. Gavin leaned forward, and Michael knew he was going to kiss him, but rather than looking for an escape, fighting against his judgement and his pride and his disbelief at what he felt, he finally knew he couldn’t wait for it. He didn’t want to avoid it. To feel Gavin pressed against him, finally, hands in his hair—

"Hey!"

Gavin and Michael jumped, barely inches apart, and Michael looked around. The voice was angry, and it wasn’t one he recognized. When he saw two men peering at them from a table not far away, one with eyes narrowed in disgust and self righteousness, he felt fear pool in his stomach. Gavin made a small, frightened noise beside him.

"I told you they were fags, Dennis. I _told_ you.”

The taller of the two spoke with a brutal, heavy tone, leaving no trace of hatred behind in his words. The man got up, dead intent on making himself heard. 

"C’mon, man, just leave ‘em alone. They ain’t causing anybody any problems," his friend Dennis chastised, but he made no move to get up and stop him. Michael tried to get his brain into focus, to get his mind off of Gavin and sobered up enough to deal with this situation. His heart beat was fast though, and despite the fact that he was sure he could take the guy, a fight was the last thing he wanted to happen tonight.

The man approached them, a smirk on his face. He was dark haired and weathered, someone who had done a hard life’s work at a young age, and his face showed nothing but 30 years of built up, family-tied intolerance. 30 years of being told what was right and what was wrong, and how to properly educate those who broke that sacred truth. His hands were already curled into fists. 

"So, you fags think you’re brave enough to come out into the open, huh?"

"Look asshole, we don’t want any trouble—" Michael began, standing up. But he was cut off by the pretty brunette, Samantha, calling out angrily from the other side of the bar. 

"Paul, you know you’re not supposed to be here. Ricky told you not to come back, so you’d better get gone before I call the cops."

Michael glanced at her to find her eyes blazing, a complete and radical change from her sweet, naive demeanor. Several other people around the bar had looked up at her voice, and Michael wasn’t comforted by the fact that all of them looked displeased, frightened even, of the man standing before him. This guy was trouble, and had made a name for himself in exhibiting it. 

"Samantha, baby, don’t you worry your pretty head. I’ll be gone as soon as I teach these queers a lesson. Maybe you’ll come with me this time," Paul smiled, shooting her a quick nod, and the other patrons at the bar began mumbling furiously among themselves. Michael even saw one pull out her phone and start dialing. 

"Hey, fuckface," Michael spat out, drawing attention back to him and away from Samantha with a rough shove to the guy’s chest, "Why don’t you escort your ass out, before I have to do it for you?"

The guy had obviously not anticipated Michael to fight back in the slightest, having been grossly misinformed on what the average “queer” was likely to do in the situation. He looked startled for a moment and sized Michael up, weighing the pros and cons. Michael knew he wasn’t exactly a specimen of intimidation normally, but if you fucked with him enough, his attitude and confidence were enough to make anyone think twice continuing it. 

"Who the fuck do you think—" Paul had started, finally being able to access the situation and find words. 

"Who the fuck do I think I’m talking to?" Michael interrupted him, taking a step closer, "I’m pretty sure I’m talking to a piece of shit who could only get a women by drugging her, and is too fucking dumb to know he picked a fight he can’t fucking win!" Michael shouted, shoving him again so that the guy staggered to his side. "Now get the fuck out, like the lady asked you!"

Michael watched as Paul had a lightning fast internal struggle with himself, one side being intimidated by Michael and unwilling to risk losing a fight to what he thought was a fag, and the other side being unable to take Michael’s shit with a tail between his legs. He was struggling to find a compromise that would appease the conflict, and in the small second it had taken Gavin to fearfully whisper, “Michael…”, Paul had found it. 

The next thing Michael knew, Gavin was sprawling into him, Paul’s fist having collided with Gavin’s face. He saw blood running from Gavin’s mouth as he clung onto Michael’s shirt to balance himself, wincing from the sting and shock. 

Michael remembers nothing from the time between seeing Gavin bleeding at his side, and seeing Paul’s face beneath him as he slammed his fists into whatever part of the guy’s head he could get a lock on. All he remembered was blinding anger. Paul’s nose was broken, blood pooling on his face and black eyes starting to swell underneath the torrent of red. Michael’s ears were ringing, and all he was aware of was his carnal desire to beat the man beneath him until he wouldn’t move anymore. Gavin’s voice eventually broke through the fog in his mind, shouting at him, and he felt hands pulling at his arms. 

Reluctantly he rose to find Gavin there, looking terrified, a stream of red still running from his lips. Gavin was speaking to him, his words trying hard to penetrate the haze of anger and alcohol that had engulfed Michael’s brain. 

"Michael…Michael!"

Michael tried to focus his eyes as the world settled back into place. There was a small commotion around him, people talking to each other, rushing over to his side. He could see Dennis in the background, trying to help Paul up as the latter rolled back and forth on his sides in agony, trying to wipe the blood from his face. A few people were around him now, asking if he was alright, asking if he was hurt. He found a firm grip on Gavin’s arm. 

"I’m fine. Gavin, we should go."

He needed to get out of there. His thoughts were still murky and his hands ached. He tasted blood. Had Paul hit him back?

Gavin was up with Samantha now, emptying his wallet onto the counter while “I’m so sorry!” spilled from his mouth in an unending stream. Michael stood there blindly, trying desperately not to look at Gavin’s face, not to look at the side of his cheek where a bruise was starting to swell, not to look at the blood smeared on his lips. His vision would turn red as soon as he saw it. He needed to be calm. 

The next thing he knew, Gavin had somehow led him outside and was ushering him into the back of a taxi. He vaguely heard his address being spoken, his mind still swirling with hatred, seeing Gavin's blood, and wishing he had caused more harm. Wishing that Gavin hadn’t pulled him back.

 

—-

 

He heard Gavin stumbling about his apartment, trying to find various medical supplies to patch them up. Michael could have helped point him in the right direction, but he stayed quiet, sitting on his bed and trying to calm his temper, which was still flaring. The room was swirling around him, and the clock on his TV monitor was blinking 10:04 at him, fuzzy pairs of numbers that swam in and out of understanding as Michael tried to regain comprehension. 

Gavin came back into the room, tripping over a bit of carpet but holding a wet washcloth. 

"Sorry…I couldn’t find anything, and then I stopped to think about it, and I didn’t really know what I was looking for anyway. Seems a bit daft to put gauze on your face for a split lip, doesn’t it?"

He seemed completely at ease with the situation, and that, more than anything, is what relaxed Michael. Gavin was fine. Gavin was still…Gavin. 

"I can’t believe he went for you," Michael sighed, his voice sounding husky and bleary as Gavin sat next to him. 

"Yeah, well, you’re were really intimidating. And I’m just…well, I don’t come across as too frightening, do I? I would have gone for me as well." 

Gavin placed his hand on Michael’s cheek, steadying him so he could wipe off some of the blood from Michael’s face. His hands were warm, and Michael closed his eyes, wishing that he could just envelope himself into that warmth, that security. 

"Thanks, though," Gavin added softly, his words just a bit slurred, but strikingly focused. "For sticking up for me. No one’s ever done that before."

Michael opened his eyes to meet Gavin’s. To see Gavin, in a glowing, drunken haze. Gavin, who still hadn’t cleaned his own lip, Gavin, who’s hair was mussed up and his eyes were alight, Gavin, who tried everyday to make Michael laugh, and Gavin, his boy, who had given him this look every day, every moment, never failing. And Michael, who had never seen him. 

Michael, who was good at overlooking the simple things. 

And as Gavin ran his thumb across Michael’s lip, Michael let go. He gave in and closed the gap between them, the feeling of Gavin’s lips finally pressed against his turning his skin to fire, his heart racing as Gavin’s hands tangled in his hair. His whole body reacted as he kissed Gavin harder, deeper, wrapping his arms around him and pressing him down against the bed, the tinge of Gavin’s blood only enticing him.

They were drunk, their movements sloppy, but Michael knew that there wasn’t any greater feeling in the world that sliding his hand up Gavin’s shirt and hearing the boy beneath him gasp, softly, innocently. Gavin tasted like honey and lust and overwhelming need, and Michael never knew a stronger desire for anything, a flame that had ignited his whole body, and every piece of his existence craved Gavin in ways he didn’t know were possible. He has no measurement of time, no reminders of the world outside of them, and slowly, their kiss melted from hard and fast and reckless, to slow, passionate, full of warmth and comfort and resolved tension. 

Finally, his vision began to cloud over, and he pulled away from Gavin, burying his face into the Brit’s neck, feeling exhaustion and liquor melt his body. Gavin held him close, tangling them together and pressing his lips slowly against whatever part of Michael he could reach. The feeling was more than Michael could have ever wanted, ever needed, and the thought of going back to how they were, small touches, coy smiles, made his heart ache. He would give anything just to ensure he could lie here with Gavin, tangled around him, for just one minute more. 

"I love you, Michael."

And Michael, pressing his lips against Gavin’s neck one last time before he blacked out, prayed to God that he would remember those words in the morning.


	5. 5

Michael woke up slowly, his body half buried in blankets as he tried to shut out the streams of early sunlight that began to brighten the room. His head had a dull ache, and his lip and fists were sore, small throbs of discontent passing through his nerves as a reminder of last night. 

Last night. 

Michael lay still, finally understanding the warmth that had been pressing against his side. He turned over gently, trying to not wake Gavin, who had his back pressed firmly against Michael’s as he slept, his arms clutched around a pillow and face buried in the sheets. His body was rising and falling softly, still fast asleep, and the sight of him unleashed the flood of memories from last night onto Michael, who suddenly felt more awake than he ever had in his life. 

The fight. Drinks. Paul, his name was Paul. The flashes of red and cries of concerned patrons. The glimpse of Gavin handing the bartender money, Michael switching his view to his bloodied hands. The cab drive home, Gavin helping him clean his cut. Gavin’s lips against his. Gavin…

Michael felt a burning sensation deep in his stomach, and to his horror, a sting in the corners of his eyes. 

What had he done?

He got out of bed slowly, careful not to move too much for the fear of rousing Gavin, as thoughts and fears and concerns bombarded his mind from every angle. What would Gavin say when he woke up? Would he remember, and did Michael want him to? Would Gavin be angry, upset? Would they both pretend it never happened, go about their friendship? Find girlfriends and wives and forget about a drunken night?

Michael crossed the room and stepped into the bathroom, rubbing his eyes before peering into the mirror above his sink. 

Is that what he wanted?

He stared at himself, trying to read his own emotions, thinking maybe if he saw the situation as a stranger in the mirror, stopped trying to do pretend he knew what he was doing and look from the outside, he might be able to understand how he felt. He tested himself and thought again of last night, feeling Gavin hot underneath him, breathing harsh, pushing his hips upwards into Michael, creating friction—

Michael’s breath caught, despite his own forewarning, and he rubbed his eyes again, furiously. There was no doubt he wanted Gavin, wanted him badly, but the consequences were too hard to ignore. What would their friends think? What would Rooster Teeth as a company think? How many fans would they lose if they found out that two of the most known members were together, were suddenly gay? What would his parents think? What would happen if him and Gavin were to break up? One of them would have to be removed from Achievement Hunter. 

He bit his lip, cursing himself as the force of his teeth caused the healing wound to bleed again. He put pressure on it with his finger and tried to figure out where to go from here. What was he supposed to say to Gavin?

He glanced back out at his bed, where Gavin was still curled around the pillow, sleeping soundly, hair spread out across the sheets. With a pang he realized that if Gavin woke up and remembered nothing, or woke up and was upset about the whole thing, this may be the last moment Michael would ever have with Gavin like this, asleep in his bed, after a night together. 

A flash of light distracted him, and he noticed his phone blinking at him from the floor, alerting him to his low battery life. He picked it up to see a 14% battery, and 8:37 blinking at him from the home screen. 

"Fuck," he cursed, forgoing being quiet for Gavin’s sake. Instead, he walked back over to his side of the bed, picked up his pillow, and began ruthlessly slamming it into Gavin’s head. The Brit popped up immediately, a terrified look on his face, before he realized what was happening and attempted to shield himself. 

"What the—Michael! Stop!"

"Get up," Michael said, finally throwing his weapon into Gavin’s chest. "We’re supposed to be at work in 20 minutes."

"Bollocks," Gavin groaned, and his hand shot up to his head, "My bloody head is _pounding_.”

Michael was busy scavenging through his dresser, throwing out whatever shirt he could find that they both owned, actively avoiding Gavin’s eyes. “Well, you had a lot of drink last night, you knew you’d pay for it.”

Michael paused at the mention of the night before, his heart pounding, but Gavin seemed to pay no attention, just crawled out of bed and stood there wearily, still wearing his pants from last night and rubbing his eyes. 

"Here," Michael offered, tossing him an old Achievement Hunter shirt, a generic one that nearly all of them owned. "Take a shower real quick then change so we can get going. You can wear those pants again, they’re probably fine."

Gavin nodded, staring at the shirt as he tried to get his focus. He didn’t seem intent on asking Michael any questions about last night, and for once, Michael was incredibly thankful that Gavin wasn’t a morning person.

"What about you?" Gavin asked blearily, pulling his old shirt over his head. 

"I’ll use the front bathroom," Michael replied, using the time Gavin’s sight was concealed to change a quick glance at the partial nudity. "Just be quick, alright? I don’t want to be attacked because we were late to work."

 

—-

 

Michael was ready before Gavin, and was in a distinctly flustered mood. Not only had he been shaking too badly to turn the faucet on correctly, which resulted in him getting blasted with hot water, he kept replaying last night in his head which gave him an entirely unwanted shower boner. Then, to make matters worse, he had to sneak back into his bathroom to grab his toothbrush, and wasn’t able to avoid glancing at Gavin’s silhouette in the shower, which didn’t help to rid him of his erection in the slightest.

By the time Gavin emerged from Michael’s room, fully clothed, Michael was a bit of a mess. He avoided Gavin’s eyes again and quickly tossed him a bottle of painkillers. 

"Here, do you think you can swallow these?"

Gavin nodded, turning the bottle around in his fingers and prying the lid open. “Yeah. I’ve been practicing. Barbara told me that I need to learn to swallow pills in case I can’t find anything liquid if we’re like, at a con or something.”

Michael ignored her name and grabbed his wallet from the coffee table and yanked his cell charger from the wall as Gavin stuffed a couple of pills into the back of his throat, washing them down with a bottle of water on the counter. 

"Alright, let’s go before Geoff starts blowing up my phone," Michael sighed, opening his door. Gavin walked out, scrolling through something on his own phone, and Michael closed and locked the door behind him. "My brother left his car with me while he’s in Australia, so we don’t have to call a cab."

"Oh, look, Geoff’s already been calling me."

Michael paused. “What?”

"Yeah here, says he called twice last night and once this morning. Probably worried I didn’t come home," Gavin said lightly, walking close to Michael as they reached the car. Michael didn’t respond, hoping that it didn’t seem too curious that Gavin had stayed with Michael last night… they’ve done it before, obviously, but still. Gavin had always let Geoff know where he was if he wasn’t going home that night, and he wasn’t sure what Geoff (with prodding from Ray), would be able to turn that into back at the office. 

Michael slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine as Gavin plopped onto the seat next to him, and to Michael’s horror, he saw him lift the phone up to his ear. 

Michael felt his nerves bunch up again as he waited for Geoff to answer Gavin’s call. What was Gavin going to say? He was never good at keeping his mouth shut about drunken escapades, and Michael wasn’t sure he was ready for any sort of revelation about his sexuality from any of his friends; he was having a hard enough time coming to terms with himself. 

"Geoff!" Gavin spoke into the phone, a smile on his face. He paused, and Michael waited, trying to make out Geoff’s words from the other side of the speaker. 

"Ah, no, Geoff, I’m sorry, I know I should have called. Michael and I—"

"Gavin!" Michael whispered harshly, a warning note of panic in his tone. He immediately regretted it, as Gavin looked over at him and their eyes met for the first time that morning. He swallowed, and Gavin ran his gaze across Michael’s face, reading every part of him. His eyes were filled with understanding, mixed with disappointment, even hurt, and Michael felt warm shame bubble inside of him. 

"—Michael and I went out for drinks, and we had a bit too many," Gavin continued, barely missing a beat. "I crashed at his apartment last night. No…. No, we’re on our way now. Alright. Yeah. Thanks man, see you."

Gavin pulled the phone away from his face and turned completely in his seat to look at Michael, opening his mouth to speak, but he never got the chance. As soon as Michael was able to clearly see the other side of Gavin’s face, all other thoughts and worried vanished from his mind. 

"Fuck, Gavin, your face!"

He reached forward and turned Gavin further to his side, bringing his cheek into full view. What was swollen last night had now bruised up, covering the corner of Gavin’s mouth and a small part of his cheek in angry red, black, and blue bruises. His cut lip was still fresh and a bit puffy, nearly identical to Michael’s.

"I hadn’t even noticed," Michael continued, examining the bruise and trying to think about how long it would take to heal. He didn’t want Gavin to have to suffer for it any longer than he had to, especially if he had to be on camera. 

"How did you not notice?" Gavin smiled, "You didn’t see it this morning?"

Michael didn’t answer, but focused his gaze on Gavin’s bruise, knowing what was coming, and already feeling terrible for it. Gavin let a small pause linger before continuing, and Michael felt his heart crush at the very first word.

"You… you’ve been avoiding looking at me, Michael?" Gavin said softly, the smile still on his face, but as much as Michael tried, he couldn’t shake the pronounced hurt in Gavin’s voice. 

"I didn’t mean to, Gavin," Michael replied, trying to sound like himself and turning back towards the steering wheel, placing his foot on the brake and shifting into reverse. "I just didn’t want to be late, I was distracted."

Gavin turned his gaze to the window and watched as Michael pulled the car out of the apartment complex. Michael’s heart was pounding. What the fuck was he supposed to say? As he turned onto the street, frantically searching his mind for something, anything, that would improve the dense mood that had settled between them, he finally heard Gavin’s voice respond to him lightly, his tone almost scared. 

"Is it because of last night?"

Michael was lost. He was so close to ruining something that hadn’t even started, something he wasn’t even sure how to go about obtaining, that his nerves were fried and he felt like a child trying to give a presentation. Scared out of his mind, and no one to help him. 

"I…," he paused, trying to buy himself time. "Do you remember what happened?"

Gavin was still looking out of the window, a sight that didn’t comfort Michael in the slightest. “Yeah. I remember.”

He had replied so softly, a flicker of awe and affection and serenity that Michael clung on to, swallowing thickly as he tried to mend this situation. He was so torn between despair and hope that the road was becoming blurry, his speech faltering him as he thought in vain for words to fix this situation. 

"Do you regret it, Gavin?" 

He hadn’t meant to ask it. It wasn’t the right question, wasn’t the right time, but he had to know. And with that realization, the need, the longing, a faint memory came into focus, having been drowned out with alcohol and exhaustion. A soft, content voice, whispering to him as he passed out, filling his heart and mind and body.

_I love you, Michael._

Michael was so caught up in that voice, finally remembering those words, that he almost missed Gavin’s quiet response.

"I don’t… do you?"

Michael shook his head, his voice breathless as he took in Gavin’s honesty. “No. No I don’t. Not at all.”

Gavin finally turned towards him, a smile spreading onto his face. Michael chanced a look away from the street and met Gavin’s eyes, so full of hope and excitement that Michael couldn’t help but smile with him, his cheeks growing red. He felt like he was in high school again. His hands felt sweaty and he still couldn’t be sure that he had actually woken up this morning, everything felt like a dream.

"Really?"Gavin asked quietly, as though speaking too loudly would break Michael out of a trance. 

Michael turned a corner, pulling onto the street that would take them to Rooster Teeth headquarters, smiling bigger than he thought he would be able to that morning. “Yeah, really. Aside from the fight, I wouldn’t change anything.”

Gavin moved his gaze back out the window, but he wasn’t able to hide the smile on his face from Michael, who in turn, couldn’t stop looking for it. 

 

—-

 

"Can I ask you something though?" Michael queried as they stepped out of the car. 

"What’s that?" Gavin replied, shutting the door and adjusting his pants, shooting Michael a questioning glance. 

Michael paused, unsure how to word himself. “So, that whole thing with pinning me against the wall, and that time at Geoff’s house… was that part of some kind of plan?”

Gavin grinned devilishly at him from across the hood of the car, “Why, did you like it?”

"Yeah," Michael was blushing, he knew, but he couldn’t help it, especially as Gavin had started to move around the car and was coming up closer to him. "That night on the couch had me hard as fuck."

Gavin smirked and pressed himself against Michael’s back. “You don’t have to tell me,” he whispered into Michael’s ear, and Michael felt chills run down his back as Gavin ran his fingers across Michael’s hip. Gavin’s voice was so deep, so sexual and arousing that Micheal audibly gasped as Gavin moved his lips against Michael’s neck to as he continued, “I was right on top, I could feel _exactly_ how hard you got for me, love.”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Michael mumbled, his dick suddenly aching for attention as he closed his eyes and let the mental imagine sink in, knowing that Gavin had been feeling him that whole time and had kept going regardless. 

"Straighten up," Gavin laughed, pulling away from him and leaving Michael missing more than just Gavin’s warmth. "We’ve got work to do today you know."

Michael’s eyes instantly shot open to see Gavin walking away from him towards the back door, a grin across his face. 

"See!" Michael hissed at him, hurrying to catch up, "That’s the shit I’m talking about! Why the fuck have you been doing that?!"

Gavin stopped and scratched the back of his head nervously. “Well, to be honest with you, it was Ray’s idea. He said I needed to be more, ah, ‘assertive’ to get your attention.”

"That motherfucker," Michael muttered, "I’ll fucking kill him, I knew he knew something."

"Come on, Michael! We’re already late!"

"Yeah alright, alright," Michael mumbled, following Gavin in through the back door, welcoming the cool gust of the A/C that slammed into his face. Thankfully no one was at the back office, and Michael didn’t have to worry about exchanging pleasantries with anyone, something he was decidedly not in the mood for. He was close behind Gavin as the Brit opened the door to Achievement Hunter, and they both stopped dead at the sight that awaited them.

"Sit your asses down," Geoff said coldly, pointing to their vacant chairs. Ryan and Ray were silent on opposite sides of the room, Ray looking as though he were hiding a smirk as he watched the two step in, and Ryan seemed to be focused on his laptop, though his eyes weren’t moving. Geoff stood in front of them, looking stern and flustered, and Michael felt his stomach drop when he realized that the girl standing next to him was Samantha, the bartender. 

Michael closed the door behind him with a resounding click, and both him and Gavin took their seats, Gavin swiveling his chair a bit as he often did when he was nervous. Michael’s heart was pounding. What had Samantha told Geoff? He glanced at her, and she looked positively terrified, and a bit ashamed.

"Now," Geoff started, his voice cracking. "Would either of you like to explain why this young lady came into our office this morning, saying that Gavin had overpaid her and she needed to return the money?"

Samantha bit her lip and avoided everyone’s gaze, fidgeting uncomfortably. Geoff didn’t seem to notice and continued, his eyes blazing as he directed his attention to Michael.

"And not only that, but she wants to thank Michael for "taking care of that guy" last night."

"Geoff," Gavin replied quickly, "There was a fight—"

"I know there was a fucking fight!" Geoff interrupted, furious, switching his gaze to Gavin, "Otherwise I’d be asking what the fuck happened to your face, Gavin!"

Gavin shrunk down, and Michael felt another pang of heartache. Gavin was incredibly fond of Geoff, saw him as a father figure at times, and hearing Geoff be legitimately angry at him couldn’t have felt good. 

Geoff returned his attention to Michael. “What the fuck were you thinking, Michael? You can’t be doing that shit, we’re still a fucking business.”

"I’m really sorry!" Samantha burst out, before Michael had even gotten the chance to open his mouth. "I didn’t mean to get anyone in trouble, but you paid me a couple hundred over what anything cost, including damage and cleaning up the blood and stuff—"

"Fucking damage and clean-up, Michael!" Geoff lashed at Micheal, running a hand through his hair, aggravated. "What the fuck did you _do_?!”

"Hey, it’s not my fault, alright?" Michael was finally able to get out, feeling disbelief and anger pool through him. Why was Geoff so bent out of shape about this? Michael had it handled. He had taken care of it, fuck that guy. "The guy just came at us, what did you want me to do?"

"Michael, I know you…" Geoff mumbled, clearly intent on disbelieving Michael’s vouch for innocence. 

"No, it’s true, really," Samantha burst out again, seeming keen on keeping Michael from any sort of blame. Geoff looked at her curiously, his eyes softening. "The guy, he was a real jerk, he always causes problems when he sees something he doesn’t like, especially—"

"Look I handled the problem, that’s all there is to it," Michael interrupted, far too quickly. He could feel the blood pulsing in him, his heart beating out of his chest. What had she been about to say? How obvious had they been to the bar last night? Samantha was looking at him with an expression that went from taken aback, to curious, to understanding, then to shock when she finally realized what she had been about to give away. Ray cleared his throat awkwardly, and the whole room seemed to go silent. Gavin was motionless.

Geoff glanced from her to Michael, deep questioning in his gaze. “What exactly where they doing that he didn’t like?” he asked slowly, cautiously. 

Michael was sure his hands were shaking so hard that someone would notice. He was having trouble breathing correctly, and he was terrified. That same fear crept in him again, the fear of judgement, the fear of the unknown. That terror began to mix with his already prevalent anger, and he was stirring inside, becoming desperate to get this attention off of himself before he had to admit something he wasn’t so sure he was ready to do. Samantha didn’t seem to know how to respond, and she kept switching her glance from Michael back to Geoff.

"We weren’t doing anything wrong, Geoff," Gavin answered for her, his voice shaking slightly. "Michael and I were just—"

“ _Gavin!_ ” Michael lashed out, giving Gavin a heated stare, and the hurt look that Gavin returned him wasn’t enough to replace Michael’s despair with shame. He was already too far gone to notice the pained look Gavin had given him, too clouded by anger and panic. Anger at Geoff for causing a scene about something so insignificantly stupid, and panic that people were going to find out his feelings towards Gavin sooner than he wanted.

If he had ever wanted people to find out. 

"We were just… we were just fucking around. Making too much noise, being too rowdy. He probably thought we were out-of-towners or something and didn’t like it."

Silence filled the room again, and Michael knew no one believed him at this point. He had interrupted her too quickly, and reacted to Gavin too harshly. He had blown it, and he avoided everyone’s gaze, keeping his eyes locked onto the floor, finally feeling only a tinge of guilt as Gavin shifted in his seat, making the distance between them a palpable wall of frustration and discomfort. Whatever betrayal Gavin was feeling took second stage to Michael’s own swirling torrent of emotions, and he tried to steady his mind, get a sense of self control back.

After what seemed an eternity to Michael, Geoff finally sighed and turned towards Samantha. 

"Thank you for coming by. Go ahead and keep the money for yourself, courtesy of Gavin and Michael’s stupidity. I’m sorry for the trouble."

Michael kept his head to the ground as she replied softly, and her feet passed by his desk and out the door, which she closed behind her, leaving nothing but a stiff atmosphere in the room behind her. 

"Gavin, are you alright?" Geoff asked, and Michael looked up to see Geoff kneeling in front of Gavin, turning his face slightly to get a better look at the bruising and swelling. Gavin seemed to relax at the touch, and his voice lost some of that fear and trepidation. 

"I’m fine, Geoff, really."

Geoff took another moment to look over Gavin, concern etched on his face. Ryan was looking over his monitor as well, studying Gavin’s face and wincing slightly as he saw the bruises. Michael chanced a look at Ray, who was staring directly at him, emotionless. He tried to read Ray’s eyes, look for some kind of hint or clue as to what action to take next, but before he had found anything, he heard Geoff turn to face him. 

"Michael, what the hell man," Geoff sighed, his voice calm, tinged with disappointment. "You’re supposed to take care of him."

"I don’t need—" Gavin interrupted, but he was ignored. 

"I was taking care of him Geoff, if you’d just listen to me instead of attacking me—"

But Geoff wasn’t letting up. He was agitated, and looking at the damage done to Gavin seemed only to entice his aggravation. “You were? Because from here it looks like his face is fucking busted!”

"Why the fuck do you think I beat the shit out of the guy, Geoff! I didn’t hit first, he fucking just went straight for Gavin, I tried to talk him out of it, avoid the whole fucking thing!"

Michael was standing now, shaking in anger again. Every emotion that had been calmed during Samantha’s departure had flared back up, intensified beyond his control. He hated being treated like a child, and Geoff seemed determined to blame everything on him without any hesitation. 

"Geoff, really, he did—"

But Gavin was ignored yet again and Geoff took Michael’s stance as a challenge, immediately turning to face him. Michael had never remembered Geoff looking so livid in the entire time he had known him, and if he hadn’t been so high on his own anger, he might have been frightened. Ryan jerked as if he was going to intervene, but remained in his seat, his eyes focused on Geoff. 

"Yeah? He went straight for Gavin, did he?" Geoff asked dangerously, "And why the FUCK would some guy come out of no where and try to beat the shit out of him?! _Why_ , Michael?!”

"Because he—" Michael started, but faltered. He had no idea where the fuck he was supposed to go from here. He was so fucking mad he couldn’t think straight, and all he wanted more than anything was for Geoff to get out of his fucking face so he could think of a plan. 

"BECAUSE HE _WHAT_ , MICHAEL?!” Geoff shouted, and Gavin flinched. 

Michael snapped. 

"Because he thought Gavin was a fucking queer, Geoff! Jesus Christ!"

Gavin tensed in his seat, but the only thing Michael could focus on was ending this conversation. Ending the discussion so he could get the fuck out of this room and maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to see straight again, as all he could feel was numbing rage. 

"Why the _fuck_ would he think that?” Geoff asked, unfazed, and before Michael could stop himself, he had done it.

"BECAUSE HE _IS_ A FUCKING FAGGOT, GEOFF!”

Geoff faltered. Ray mumbled something under his breath and turned away, his hand over his face. Ryan was silent, eyes closed. Geoff took a step back, his expression softened, and he looked at Gavin, who had his head down, eyes lost into the carpet as tears welled up inside of them. Michael’s anger slowly peeled back, layer by layer, and with a sick, empty feeling, he realized what he had done. Gavin was shaking slightly, but as soon as Geoff reached out to touch him, Gavin had moved quickly and disappeared out of the door, leaving it to hang open behind him.

"Goddamnit, Michael," Geoff cursed, and immediately chased after him. They heard the front door slam, and Geoff calling out Gavin’s name to the parking lot. 

Michael, stunned and shocked, fell back into his chair, his body feeling heavy as his own sharp, stabbing words replayed through his head. They had been so full of hate, of disgust. He hid his face in his hands, trying not to picture Gavin right now, crying somewhere, Geoff having to hold him and comfort him and help Gavin realize his worth again, as the only thing Michael had been able to do was tear him to pieces. To rip him down, right as he had been most confident. 

What had he done.

He felt Ray’s hand on his shoulder, and when he looked up, Ray was above him, motioning his head towards the door. But there was no laughter in his eyes, no bad joke in the silence of the room, no comforting gaze of acceptance. He moved to grip Michael’s arm, pulling him up and out of the chair.

"If there’s anything you can do well, Michael, it’s fuck everything up. Come on, let’s take a walk."


	6. 6

"You were supposed to take care of him!"

_"You were supposed to take care of him!"_

_"I think he’s getting tired of waiting on you, honestly."_

_"Gavin’s been right here this whole time."_

_"I love you, Michael."_

Thoughts and people and memories of the past week were swirling around in Michael’s head so badly he felt sick, a small accompaniment to the pounding headache he had. All of it was so blurred and melded together he wasn’t able to make any sense of it, and the thought of attempting to was followed by a swift numbness in his fingers and blurred vision.

Ray had led Michael outside and across the street, where an empty park table beckoned them, sought out by Michael’s loneliness and guilt. The world around them was just beginning to feel the heat of Texas, and it only reminded Michael bitterly of how, in a few hours, it would be time for his and Gavin’s lunch time swim. Now, he wasn’t sure if that would happen today. Or tomorrow, or ever again. He wasn’t sure of anything save that shame was the most unforgiving state of mind in his limited range of emotions.

Ray was seated next to him, looking thoroughly disappointed, but tolerant. Even empathetic.

"Are you going to tell me what happened last night?"

Michael breathed deep into the wood beneath him. Was he? Did it matter anymore? But even as he decided to shrug it off, tell Ray that nothing would make a difference, his mouth was opening and words were spilling out, a purging of denial and lust and fear. Of hope. Of want. Of a kiss he craved to feel again. Of a protective instinct for Gavin that bordered on possessive, with every quick glance of a women Gavin ignored being a swift reminder of his jealousy. A jealousy he had never understood. A jealousy he had thought was over Gavin’s admirers, not over Gavin himself. But Gavin was his.

His boy.

Ray listened, and was silent, taking in Michael’s words with no interruption or intake of breath. No surprise, no shame, and no judgement. His eyes softened and Michael felt the tension between them dissipate, and Ray’s annoyance or disappointment or whatever the _fuck_ Ray had been feeling melted from his body, and a strange open air filled the space around them. Michael knew he could say anything right now, and Ray would love him regardless.

Along with Ray’s returned affection, though, came Ray’s unfiltered humor.

"So, denial’s not going too well for you, huh?"

In response, Michael slammed his head against the wood.

"I’m not gay," Michael murmured, feeling his warm breath against the table beneath him. It’s true, he wasn’t. But for every beautiful woman Michael could picture, he heard Gavin’s laugh in the foreground, felt Gavin’s skin against his; for every kiss he had ever shared with a girl, those lips formed Gavin’s, kissing him back heavily, deeply, full of desire and want and _knowing_.

"Neither is Gavin," Ray answered lightly.

He slammed his head on the table again. Gavin had gotten to every part of him, sunk into and under his skin, into his body, and Michael was tearing himself apart. He couldn’t go back after what they had shared, he didn’t want to, but he was so afraid, so terrified—

"When I was seventeen," Ray began, interrupting Michael’s thoughts. His voice was calm, collected, and demanded an air of attention. Michael had rarely heard him speak like this, and his own worries took back-burner as he focused on Ray.

"...I had a crush on my coworker in this shitty fast food place I worked at in New York. It was so… _different_. She was different. Most of the girls I went after had long hair, big ass, high sense of self worth, you know, the usual. They were the girls I felt I belonged with. But this girl, Lara, her name was, was small, skinny, and always wore clothes that were too big for her. Half her head was shaved, the rest of it was orange, and she used words I couldn’t even begin to pronounce. She made me a little Nintendo necklace out of glycerin, beads, and wire. I… I fell in love with her immediately.”

Michael tilted his head to the side to watch Ray, who had his feet stretched out underneath him and was was using a sharpie to scribble on the table. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, but his words were clear.

"But I was scared. All my friends had these girlfriends who went to the mall and spoke fast and were like prizes. She wasn’t anything like that, and I was too much of a pussy to admit I liked her. I was so afraid of being judged by them, or worse, for her to be judged by the other girls. She was so sweet and funny and fragile…"

Ray’s words were like a recording, and Michael felt his heartbeat slow in time to the rhythm of his voice. It was calm. Michael’s anger and pain had receded. Ray kept on, his marker and his hand on autopilot, his eyes distant, voice soft.

"My coworker Maris cornered me one day, and I admitted everything. Told her I was afraid, that Lara wasn’t my type, that if I were ask her out, that I wouldn’t be living up to the standards that I had stupidly set for myself. She called me a retard for lying, and told me people don’t have a type."

Ray paused, and looked over at Michael, who held his gaze, transfixed. There was something in Ray’s voice that he couldn’t ignore, something so deep and pained and intimate that he knew he was intruding on.

Ray swallowed. “She told me, ‘You can’t help who you fall in love with.’”

Ray had done it, and the corners of Michael’s eyes immediately stung at the words. Tears threatened to fall and he hid his face behind his hand, trying to wipe away his pain and frustration. With a shaky voice, he asked Ray what had happened, and Ray shrugged, but it was a heavy movement, full of regret.

"I waited too long. The day I decided to do it, to ask her out, I was too late. She had moved back to Germany with her family… she left me a note saying she was sorry she didn’t say goodbye. Said it would have been… been too hard."

Ray’s voice broke and Michael looked up in time to see him rubbing his eyes with his sleeve, and he was shocked and hurt to see the redness gathered in Rays eyes. His Ray, that knew nothing but laughter and banter and a fulfilled life.

"Fuck what anyone else thinks, Michael," Ray said sharply, his voice laced with malice and regret and shame. "I cared too much and I lost someone special. So what if you’re not gay, or not straight, or not _anything_ , if you feel something don’t you dare let anyone else tell you what’s right for you.”

He stopped again, letting the words sink into Michael, who heard them and felt them and melded with them down to his very core. He was ashamed, he was desperate for forgiveness, he needed…

"You can’t help who you fall in love with, Michael, and if you don’t get your shit together you’re going to lose Gavin, and you’ll never be able to deserve him again."

Michael swallowed heavily, and tears leaked from his eyes. He tried to blink them away, but more kept coming, and suddenly he had buried himself in Ray’s chest and was crying harder than he had since he was a child. He cried for himself, for his own stupidity. He cried for Ray, and what he had lost, and he cried for Gavin. He cried for what he had done to Gavin, what he had done to _them_ , and how he had never truly realized how fucking thankful he was that Gavin was here, tangible, wherever and whenever Michael had needed him. 

Gavin deserved so much, but the only thing he wanted was the one thing Michael hadn’t been ready to give.

He had always been so sure of himself.

Ray’s shirt was wet from Michael’s tears, and his hand were soft on Micheal’s back, holding him without worry or bother, without cares or concerns or glances from cars on the street. Michael was trying to catch his breath, gain control of his body and his emotions but Ray just whispered to him, soft and encouraging, letting it pass.

"It’s alright. You’re fine, we love you. Michael. Shh."

And slowly, Michael’s heaving stops, and his breathing returns to normal, but each imagine of Gavin that forces his way through the black in the his vision guarantees a wince, a cruel reminder from his heart of what he had just done. He pulls away from Ray, taking off his glasses and wiping his red eyes with his hands.

Ray smiled at him softly, so out of character, and Michael hiccups back.

"I have to apologize Ray. I need to find Gavin, I…"

Michael stops, and he smiles. He know what he wants to say, and it’s so _amazing_ that he can’t stop. It’s so incredible. It hits him like a hammer straight in his chest, the impact creating waves of realization and warmth and shock that reverberates through his body, filling his emptiness and his fears. He smiles and Ray smiles back, and they laugh until Michael is grinning. He knows. He know what he wants.

"I love him, Ray."

Ray just looks at him, a crooked smile on his lips as he studies Michael.

"I know. I’ve known that for, like, six months now."

Michael lets out a winded laugh, high pitched and full of both disbelief and acceptance and _god_ why had it taken him this long?

He stands up quickly, all intent on finding Gavin. Holding him and clutching him and telling him how fucking sorry he was until his mouth ran dry or Gavin forgave him. He wouldn’t stop.

But for the second time in twenty four hours, he feels a fist connecting with his face.

"Sorry, Michael, but that was for Gavin. Now get up."

Dazed, his face pounding twice as hard as it had been last night, Michael looks up to see Geoff above him, shaking the pain out of his fist as he stared down at Michael.

"Goeff, Jesus," Ray muttered. "I had just broken him, too."

Geoff looks at Ray curiously before extending a hand to Michael, who took it, bewildered.

"What do you mean, broken him?" Geoff asked, before pulling Michael up and steadying him on his feet. "Sorry again Michael, but, you know, Gavin’s a mess, and he won’t hit you himself."

Michael was still out of it, but he had caught enough of that sentence to set his mind straight.

"Where is he?"

Geoff studied him closely, seemingly surprised that Michael didn’t care about the blow Geoff just landed against him. “Gavin? He’s back in the office in one of the empty storage rooms, but Michael, we need to talk first—”

Michael didn’t hear anything else. He was running full sprint towards the Rooster Teeth building, blindly crossing the street and jumping over the curbs, stumbling at the gravel underneath him. His entire body screamed at him, and the only thought blurred through his mind was _get to Gavin._

 

—-

 

He found Gavin sitting alone where Geoff had apparently left him, sniffling softly to himself as he swiveled around in one of the unused chairs. His hair was messy and his body was hunched, and all Michael could feel was a surge of relief.

_Gavin._

Gavin’s eyes shot up as Michael closed the door behind him softly.

"Michael!" he gasped sharply, turning quickly and trying to clear the tears from cheeks. Michael walked towards him, and his feet couldn’t even feel the ground beneath him, his eyes trained only to Gavin. His Gavin. His boy.

His knees hit the floor in front of Gavin, and he turned the chair around so the Brit would face him. He was pathetic, his eyes were red and his face was still wet from the tears smeared haphazardly across his face, but Michael couldn’t stop looking. Couldn’t help but take in any and all of Gavin that he could see, and even the dried tears made him smile, because it meant he was here now. Gavin was here, right in front of him, tears and all. And Michael could fix him. He would fix him. He still had the chance.

Gavin wasn’t pulling away. His eyes glimmered and he was so _fucking_ beautiful Michael didn’t think anything would tear him away from the man in front of him, who looked down at Michael hopeful and nervous and desperately wanting just to _know_.

He took in Gavin’s face for what felt like the first time. The small freckles dusted delicately across his forehead, bright green eyes that were staring nervously at Michael, too choked for speech, wet lips that contained lingering, half thought-out words that had never made it out of Gavin’s mouth. He was so beautiful, and Michael felt his heart aching.

"Gavin," he whispered, reaching up to push a strand of hair behind Gavin’s ear. "I’m so, so sorry."

And nothing had ever felt more true, or real, or resounding.

"Michael…" Gavin replied, and Michael saw tears well up in his eyes again.

_God he was so beautiful._

"Don’t cry, Gavin, I’m sorry," he whispered, and without thinking he reached out and pressed his lips against Gavin’s forehead. Gavin breathed deep, a content, blissful sigh, and Michael held Gavin’s face between his hands, his thumb caressing cheekbone as he prayed for Gavin to look at him. To hear him. To understand _everything._

"I love you, Gavin."

Gavin’s eyes were locked onto his, and he saw them grow wide, Gavin’s breath catching. And the only thing Michael could do to fulfill his need, the only way he could apologize, the only way to let Gavin know exactly what he meant, and how much he fucking meant _everything_ was to reach up and press their lips together.

Gavin fell into the kiss immediately, slipping out of his chair and melting into Michael as he turned his head slightly to deepen their contact. Michael felt his skin ignite, just as it had the previous night, but in his sober state he felt more than he could ever imagine. Gavin accepted everything, Michael’s lips and his hands and his words, parched and desperate, confined and aching for nothing but hope and love.

He had forgiven him.

The thought alone was enough to make Michael clutch Gavin even tighter, pull him closer. The taste of Gavin’s tongue against his was electric, and when Gavin fell apart beneath him it was all Michael could do to fall with him, and suddenly Gavin is urging him on, his hands pressed deep into Michael’s back, fingernails digging into skin. Michael breathes sharp into the kiss at the contact, and his hands tangle in Gavin’s hair as he tries to taste and feel as much of Gavin as he can. It’s too much for Michael, and he pulls back, gasping for air as Gavin’s hands slip under his shirt.

Gavin moves his mouth to Michael’s neck and finds the skin there, sucking gently and sending jolts of pleasure that sear Michael’s already fried tension, and he’s moaning into Gavin’s shoulder, “ _Fuck_ I love you, Gavin. _Fuck_.”

He can barely recall the muscles he has to use to bring Gavin back up to his mouth, but Gavin has already captured his lips again, letting Michael press him down as they run their fingers across any inch of skin they can find. He feels like fire and need and Gavin is his fuel, each small noise Gavin makes in the back of his throat enticing him to deepen their kiss, fist his hand in Gavin’s hair, grind his hips against Gavin’s and fuck _why did it take them so long._

Michael’s fumbling hands had just found Gavin’s pants and were undoing the button when the door busts open, and there’s Goeff, Ryan, and Ray standing at the doorway, Ray looking eager, Ryan bewildered, and Geoff, terrified. As soon as they lay eyes on the pair sprawled across the floor, Gavin’s hands clutched into Michael’s back, and Michael’s halfway through undoing Gavin’s pants, Ray mimics a touchdown dance.

"Fuck yes, I _told_ you Geoff!”

Geoff was looking between Gavin and Michael, perplexed, curious, but the worry etched on his face was fading, and when Gavin raised one hand off of Michael’s back to wave casually at the doorway, his voice managing to squeak out a “Hi, Geoff,” Michael finally saw him relax.

"Jesus _Christ_ , Michael. You fucking drive me crazy,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “You alright, Gavin?”

Gavin swallows audibly, and with a jolt Michael realizes he still has his hand pressed against the bulge in Gavin’s jeans. He removes it quickly and Gavin lets out in involuntary sigh of disappointment.

"I’d be a lot better if you’d close the bloody door, Geoff."

"Yeah. Um, right." Geoff responds, looking awkward for the first time. "You guys just know the room isn’t soundproof, right?"

Gavin laughs shyly, embarrassed, but Michael is on his feet before Geoff can close the door, and he’s dragging Gavin with him.

"Geoff, wait!"

Geoff pauses, watching curiously as Michael approaches him, Gavin in tow.

Michael is still breathless from their foreplay, and despite wanting nothing more than to press Gavin against the wall beside them, he knows Gavin isn’t the only person he needs to appease today.

"Geoff, I’m sorry. I was an asshole," Michael breathes. Gavin squeezes his fingertips lightly, and Michael shivers, trying to focus. "I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And I shouldn’t have said that stupid shit I did. Are we… good?"

Geoff studies Michael, but that gleam is back behind Geoff’s eyes, and Michael smiles, knowing he’s won before Geoff can even open his mouth.

Geoff sighes. “Yeah. We’re good. Do it again though, and you’re fired.”   
Michael grins. And it’s so real, and his heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest

Geoff turns to Gavin, who’s beaming at him like a complete moron, and shakes his head. “And Gavin… I want you moved into Michael’s place as soon as possible. I can’t take hearing you moan his name through my walls anymore when you jerk off.”

"Geoff!"

Michael and Ray burst out laughing, and Gavin’s cheeks flush back bright red as he tries to defend himself against Geoff, who simply ignores him and walks back to the office, intent on putting Gavin and Michael’s antics at a respectable distance. Ryan gives Michael a quick wink and cuffs his shoulder before running to catch up to Geoff. Ray follows them quickly, smiling at Gavin and mumbling, “That’s disgusting, Gav.”

When they’re gone, Michael turns to smirk at Gavin, who hysterically launches into a plethora of words that could barely be called a sentence.

"Michael he’s lying, I swear, the bloody idiot is just being a stupid twit like always and I have never ever not once done that, I swear Michael—”

"Gavin! Gavin it’s _fine_ ,” Michael laughs, turning Gavin towards him and curling one arm around Gavin’s hip, feeling more free than he’d ever had knowing the boy before him was completely his for the taking.

The thought makes it hard to breathe, and when Gavin leans in again, hoping to resume what had been interrupted, it’s all Michael can do not to imagine the looks on everyone’s faces if he were to take Gavin now, right there in the hallway.

Wait. Michael pulled back. Gavin looks at him, eyesbrows raised in question, but Michael’s eyes are gleaming.

"No, hold on," he tells Gavin, lips curling into a smile. "There’s something I have to do."

And Gavin is being pulled along again, out of the doorway and through the office, passing by a bewildered Kara, who dropped her coffee at the sight of Michael’s freshly bruised face. He pays her no attention, completely focused on what he wants to do. He was almost flying up the staircase, Gavin barely keeping up with him as he shot questions at Michael almost as quickly as they ran.

They reached the top, breathless, and Michael immediately broke into a devilish grin as he saw Barbara staring back at him from her desk, startled.

"Michael, my god, what happened to your face?!"

Gavin had caught his breath, realized Michael’s intention, and tried to talk him out of it. “Oh, no, Michael, don’t…”

But too late.

"Hey, Barb," Michael grinned, dragging Gavin up to the front of her desk despite his continued protests. He met her eyes and smirked again at the confusion on her face, his confidence rising as he felt Gavin’s heat pressed against him.

"Look what I can do."

And Gavin was pushed on top of Barbara’s desk, legs spread apart on either side of Michael as he slipped between them, moving down to kiss Gavin harder than he’d ever kissed anyone, just teeth and bruised lips and a throaty moan from Gavin that Michael would never forget. Michael felt Gavin’s leg curl around his as he fists the fabric on the back of Michael’s shirt, and Gavin involuntarily bucked into Michael’s hips as the redhead bit down on Gavin’s bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth.

Barbara shrieked in surprise and jumped from her chair, but they ignored her. Gavin released another moan as Michael slid his hands up under his shirt, pressing his hips between Gavin’s legs and grinding into him. The friction was too much for Gavin, who took control by coaxing Michael’s mouth open again so he could slide his tongue against Michael’s, a move that sent shivers through his spine, causing him to seriously consider fucking Gavin right there on Barbara’s desk.

"Fuck, you guys!" Barbara squeaks, then does the only logical thing she can think of and runs down the staircase, screaming about needing sanitizer.

The noise pulls Michael away, and Gavin whines at the loss of contact, grasping at Michael to pull him back.

"Eager?" Michael asks him, and Gavin glares at him, his lips swollen and red from the kiss.

"Tosser," Gavin spits back bitterly, but there’s a smile breaking on his face as he pulls himself up on Barbara’s desk. "You can really do revenge well, can’t you?"

Micheal leans back down and bites down on Gavin’s neck lightly, feeling the boy beneath him shiver. He smiles and slips his hand underneath the rim of Gavin’s jeans, and Gavin makes a noise that gets Michael hard faster than any kiss could have done.

"That’s not the only thing I can do well, love."


End file.
